Werewolves of New York
by lildreamer7
Summary: AU of 6.14 Sanguine Love. In this universe, the vampires are real. And that changes everything…
1. Prologue

**Title:** Werewolves of New York

**Author:** lildreamer

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** AU of 6.14: _Sanguine Love._ In this universe, the vampires are real. And that changes everything…

**Disclaimer:** I do own CSI: NY or any of its characters. They belong to Anthony Zuiker and Jerry Bruckheimer. Too bad it got canceled!

**A/N:** Wrote this a while back (obviously!) Thought I'd finally post it. A little Halloween treat. Starts out slow, but gets better. Trust me. Also, you might be wondering why it's titled "Werewolves" when the ep was about vampires. Well, you'll see…

**Okay. So, on with the story…**

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They say "a picture is worth a thousand words." To one young woman they were worth even more. Her camera was her key into the world she'd left behind long ago. The photographs themselves were brief glimpses into a life she would never have. Wherever she went, her camera went with her. She took pictures of everything and everyone. She never wasted a single opportunity. Some might call it a hobby. Some might call it art. But to her, it was the last remnant of a forgotten past.

She sat on a bench somewhere in the park, fumbling around with her camera. The batteries had died and she'd stopped to switch out the dead ones for fresh ones, but her gloved hands had turned the normally easy task into a slightly difficult one. After several tries where one battery went in but not the other, she finally got both in. With her camera ready to go again, she stood and continued down the snow-covered path she'd been following. She glanced up at the sky. No sun today, just clouds. Not good for taking pictures. But that didn't stop her. Anyway, she hated the sun.

A gust of wind suddenly blew through the trees, bringing her attention back to her hike through the park. There was snow everywhere. It was winter, and a cold one at that. Everyone was bundled up, trying to keep warm. But the cold didn't really bother her. Whether it was because of the thick coat she wore or something else, she wasn't sure anymore. All she knew was that she was the only person out there who didn't mind the freezing temperatures.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she headed toward an open area where some people were taking advantage of the "Snow Day." She paused to take a few shots of some kids building a snowman. When she was done, she glanced down at the tiny screen to examine her work. She sighed, feeling the familiar pang of regret she always felt when looking at pictures of children. They reminded her so much of her old life. The life she could never go back to. Once she made sure the photographs were saved, she continued on her icy trek.

She trudged through the ankle-deep snow until she came upon a statue dusted with the white stuff. A good photo opportunity. She focused her camera on the statue with the skill of a professional photographer. She was just about to take the picture when a sound from behind caught her attention.

Someone was coming.

But she didn't sense the danger until it was too late. She gasped and her dark eyes went wide, feeling the sharpened piece of wood driven deep into her back. Her camera fell from her hands, flashing several times as it hit the ground.

Blood trickled from her mouth. She stared down at the growing bloodstain on the front of her jacket before her legs buckled underneath her and she collapsed facedown onto the snow-covered ground. As she lay there, the life draining out of her, she heard the sound of someone plodding through the snow. She turned her head, and her assailant's face swam into view.

The man gave her a contemptuous look. Then without a word, he walked away, leaving her to die.

And as her world went black, the only thought on her mind was how cold she felt.


	2. Chapter 1

New York can be a wonderful place in the winter…until the "snow days" become "snow months," and the snow gets so deep it swallows up your car, your house, and anything else in its path. And when it finally starts to melt, it mixes with dirt and turns into black slush. For tourists it's a winter wonderland. For locals it's a nightmare. Especially for the CSIs.

Det. Mac Taylor pulled up the collar of his coat against the morning chill. It was colder than usual. Winter had started early. Dr. Sheldon Hawkes trudged along beside him, hugging his thick winter coat closer to his body, as they made their way through Central Park toward their new crime scene. It didn't take long for them to find the area that had been cordoned off from the rest of the park. Don stood there waiting for them.

As they approached, the detective turned from his post by the police tape and smiled.

"Hey, guys," he greeted. It was so cold his breath was visible, leaving his mouth in what looked like a puff of smoke. He rubbed his gloved hands together. "What took you so long? Almost turned into a cop-sicle."

The joke elicited smiles from his colleagues.

Mac glanced over at the body lying half-buried in the snow on the other side of the yellow tape. "What do you have for us?"

"Groundskeeper found her this morning," Don answered, consulting his notepad. "No ID, yet."

"Looks like she was stabbed," Hawkes said, stepping beneath the tape to examine the body. He crouched down and carefully began brushing the snow away to get a better look.

The victim was a young woman, a blonde, dressed warmly for winter weather. Sheldon's gloved fingers passed over a large tear in the back of her black coat, the edges encrusted with red snow.

"Just one thing," Don said, glancing around. "Where's all the blood?"

Mac thought about that for a moment. The detective was right. There wasn't much blood around the body to account for a wound that size. Either this was a secondary crime scene or…

A cold breeze blew through the trees. That gave Mac an idea. He began digging through the snow around the woman's body, the others watching him curiously. He stopped when he found what he was looking for. Red ice. Blood. Lots of it.

"There was a storm last night," he explained. "The snow buried everything." He looked around, noting the absence of any shoe impressions but their own. "And obliterated any footprints."

"Hey, what's that?" Hawkes said, glimpsing something Mac had inadvertently unburied near the victim's feet. He moved to pick it up and studied it in his gloved hands. It was a piece of wood about a foot long, sharpened at the end which was stained with blood. "Murder weapon?"

Flack arched an eyebrow. "Seriously? A stake? What was she, a vampire?"

"I don't know…" Mac said, gently brushing a few snowflakes from the girl's face. Despite the fact that she was dead, she looked like a woman at peace. "Does she look like a vampire to you?"

"Nah, all the vampires I know have pale skin, sharp teeth, and great hair. And they have names like Edward or Jacob."

"Jacob's a werewolf."

Sheldon and Don stared at Mac as if he'd grown a second head.

"What? I know things."

His friends kept their mouths shut, but Mac could see the amusement in their eyes. They'd never let him live this down. He could see the blackmail coming already.

He shook his head, smiling good-naturedly. "Don?"

"Huh?"

"Call and check with the precinct for any missing persons reports filed recently."

"Sure thing, boss," the detective replied, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

Mac's gaze was suddenly drawn toward the trees.

Something moved.

He blinked, unsure of what he'd seen. He shook his head and told himself it was just his imagination; the breeze was moving the leaves.

"Hey, is that what I think it is?" Don remarked, pulling Mac from his thoughts. The detective gestured with his free hand toward a dark object sticking out from beneath the body.

Pushing the incident into the back of his mind, Mac reached for the object, carefully eased it out, and dusted it off. "Nice catch, Don."

"A camera," Hawkes said, eyeing the small gadget in Mac's hands with interest.

"I think we just found our only witness."

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**So, whaddaya think? Keep going?**


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